The Walls Come Down
by Lucifer's Garden
Summary: He wasn’t really looking to hear her say anything, after all. Her words would break the spell and send his walls flying back up, hiding him from her. PreRayne friendship one shot, slight Rayne near the end!


**Firefly and everything affiliated with it belongs to Joss Whedon, the show's creator.** More Jayne and River goodness. Still mostly a friendship fic, but a light touch of Rayne near the end, if you squint a little. T for a bit of bad language. Enjoy!

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_**The Walls Come Down**_

She felt his eyes on her again and turned to give him a brief, shy smile, which he returned. He had introduced himself as Kenny from Beaumond, but a closer scan on his memories revealed that he was really Denton from Beylix. Why he chose a new identity was of little concern to her. Everybody has a mask. Everybody has secrets. Now she had an easier time keeping them out of her head.

"So, River, huh?" he asked, leaning one elbow to angle himself towards her. "That's a nice name."

The rest of the crew was busy eating and chatting with the other passengers – an elderly woman traveling with her son and his wife – and took no notice of the handsome young man with dreadlocks and perfect teeth focused entirely on their little albatross. Otherwise the captain or her brother would have stepped in and told Kenny, with their eyes and stiff postures rather than words, 'off limits; back off'. Even Jayne had begun keeping an eye on her, ever since the events on Miranda solidified his former shaky allegiance to the crew. It was all very macho and unnecessary. She was more capable of defending herself than anyone on the ship. But it made them feel big and manly and useful, so she let them. And besides, it felt nice to be treated like a princess sometimes. The feeling was so new to her . . .

River's smile stretched into an embarrassed grin, her cheeks reddening slightly. This was the sort of attention Kaylee and Inara were accustomed to, not her. She had endured her fair share of lewd advances before, but never this semi-innocent flirting, with rules and protocol and etiquette. When she had been introduced to him, she had seen herself through his mind's eye and felt a tremour of shock and delight at how she appeared to him. A woman, not a girl. And it was true, her eighteenth birthday had come and gone some time ago. She was still skinny and pale with big eyes and a mess of dark hair, but he thought she was . . . pretty.

"You look a little young to be a gun hand though," he carried on, dropping his hand under the table to lightly run his finger along the pistol strapped to her thigh. Her skirt had ridden up when she sat down to eat, and until now she had not realized how much skin was showing. She swallowed and hastily pulled the fabric down, glad that the dim light was hiding her blush.

"I am . . . highly qualified," she informed him, trying to sound nonchalant. Since uncovering the truth about Miranda, her mind had become less anarchic, and her words were easier to control. But whenever she became nervous or upset, she would slip and start spewing nonsense again. It was frustrating, always taking two steps forward and then one step back, but it helped that the crew understood. They were patient, and they were forgiving.

Strangers, however, are not so inclined.

Kenny tilted his head to the side and regarded her with a secret meaning in his eyes. "My aim's always a little off. I prefer knives. But maybe . . . you could give me a few tips, later?"

His hand came down again, this time landing softly on her thigh. Her breath stuttered and her stomach knotted almost painfully into her throat. _Yes no maybe I don't know -_

"In private, I mean," he added, looking amused at the expression on her face. "Crowds make me nervous."

_Do I want to I don't know very beautiful but it isn't right Captain will be mad and Simon will look at me with his eyes and _

It was happening – the walls of her mind that kept everything in order beginning to crumble, beginning to fall – and she couldn't stop it. His memories and thoughts melted with hers and suddenly her tongue had a will of its own, just like it did before.

"She fell down," she declared, her voice louder than it should have been. Heads turned, conversation lulled. "The shot was meant for her lover, but your aim has always been a little off. And then the red came, and it brought her to her knees and . . . 'Denton, Denton, why?' she cried, she cried, she was crying and the red wouldn't stop . . ."

Kenny stood up so fast that several people jumped and all conversation stopped. "Shut up," he gasped, staring down at her with wide, panicked eyes.

"_Mei mei_," her brother's voice cut in, kindly but with an edge of warning. "You shouldn't –"

"_Denton, it's your baby_."

The back of his hand hit her cheek so hard that it knocked her off the bench, down to the floor, and suddenly everyone was up on their feet, shouting and darkness and anger. Simon and Kaylee were at her side, Zoe and Inara rose swiftly to their feet – Zoe was cold, Inara was hot and furious. Jayne moved quickly, hauling Kenny up and pinning him against the wall, knuckles aching for payback, but holding himself in check. New loyalty. Needed permission to unleash the bear inside.

The captain walked around the table with long, deliberate strides. His face was like hard stone, but his eyes were blazing.

"I didn't mention it earlier," he began darkly, letting Jayne continue to hold him up by the front of his jacket. "But I ain't exactly keen on passengers smackin' my crew around, particularly lil' girls. I figured it was somethin' of an unwritten law. Now I conjure I gave your brains, not to mention your manners, a lil' too much credit."

"She's a _witch_."

The word brought River's heart to a crashing halt. Simon flinched at her side, and she felt his sudden desire to switch places with Jayne the Bear.

"As you are a paying customer, I will refrain from tossin' you out the ass end o' my ship," Mal snapped, all the patience leaving his voice. "Provided you stay snug in your quarters until we touch down, that is. If I see you wanderin' about before then, Jayne here is gonna relocate you to the cargo hold where you will be supervised at all times. And lemme assure you, the hold ain't nearly as cozy as the guest rooms."

Kenny's hateful glare on River switched to a fearful consideration of the merc holding him up against the wall. Wisely, he did not reply.

Jayne was a little disappointed when Mal told him to drop the scummy little worm. The mercenary no longer for hire, however, felt greatly cheered at being charged with 'escorting' him out of the dining area. He was pretty steamed up about the punk slapping little River, and the walk to the guest quarters meant walking down a dark, lonely corridor with no witnesses.

"Got a question for ya, Kenny," he said conversationally as he dragged the boy out of the room. "Or Denton, whatever yer name is. What exactly, in yer grand way o' thinkin', justifies hittin' a young lady like that?"

"So much fuss over a witch," the moron spat, saying very much the wrong thing.

"Now, see, there ya go, usin' that word again. This crew don't appreciate folk badmouthin' our little genius. Sure, she's a little off sometimes, but she only gets moony when something – or some_one_," he stressed, digging his fingers into the boy's shoulder, "makes 'er uncomfortable."

Kenny winced in sweet, deserving pain. "She was in my head. Saw things she had no business seein'," he went on, as though his ward actually gave a rat's ass. They stopped in front of the guest quarters, and Jayne kicked the door open.

"Yeah? Well next time, use your words like a big kid." With that, he dropped his charge down the ladder shaft and snickered at the loud thud of flesh hitting hard metal floor. He then slammed the door shut, not bothering to lock it. Part of him – well, all of him, really – was kinda hoping the kid would be stupid enough to try and sneak out.

His stomach growled, prompting him to turn and head back towards the dining room to finish up his dinner, when a small, familiar shape darted past him. A small, familiar figure with a curtain of long dark hair flowing out behind her and tears on her face. He watched her disappear around the corner and waited for the sounds of her brother chasing after her. But there was only silence. The doc had probably resigned himself to let her go and cool off on her own, which was something he never would have done before . . .

Before Miranda. The very name of that damn place made Jayne's heart constrict. Involuntary images of Wash and Book flashed through his mind's eye and he quickly banished them as he set off down the hall to where he knew River was heading.

So he was different now too. He could have run, could have left them all to deal with feds and Reavers on their own. But he didn't. He stayed, and he fought a war that wasn't his, for reasons that still weren't entirely clear to him. Only, he knew that leaving meant leaving Kaylee to become a plaything for the Reavers, or Mal to fall apart and lead them all down a rabbit hole of no return. And Jayne could not allow that. He couldn't turn his back on the small group of people that, against all the odds he stacked up himself, somehow became his friends. Hell, his family. The simple fact that he finally allowed himself to call them that changed everything, and it was never going to go back to the way it was before.

If the doc could decide to back off, than the merc could sure as hell decide to follow. Hadn't he already proven that?

His instincts were right. He found her in the bridge, curled up on Wash's old chair with her forehead on her knees. Jayne entered quietly, knowing it was useless to announce his presence. She would have heard him coming a long way back. He sighed heavily and walked up next to her chair before leaning his hip against the controls and crossing his arms over his chest.

"You want I should beat the snot outta him?" he asked.

She shook her head, still keeping it lowered.

"Damn. Can I at least rough him up a bit?"

Another refusal. "Won't change the irrefutable facts under the surface," she mumbled.

He scoffed, once he arrived at a rough guess as to what 'irrefutable' meant. "Come on, girl, you ain't no witch. That _qing wa cao de liu mang_ was just –"

"Truth," she cut him off, peeping up at him over her elbow. "Underlying _truth_. Not his word, but his meaning. He is a messenger, but has not read the letter himself."

"Huh," he grunted, frowning a little. He knew that she was gonna be a little harder to understand, being upset and all, but he was beginning to wonder if he was able to keep up with her in this state. "All right. What truthy message you talkin' about?"

River lifted her head up all the way to reply, and he was ready to swear on the spot that tears had some kind of scientifical ability to make a girl's eyes look twice as big.

"I'm not going to get better," she said quietly, and with so much sadness that Jayne felt it in the pit of his stomach. "Always in circles, yet never moving. Round and around, not forward."

"What're you on about?" he protested. "You _have_ been gettin' better, ever since . . ." It was easier to say 'Miranda' in his head to force it up his throat and out of his mouth. She heard it, but she shook her head anyway.

"Thoughts come out. I communicate . . . but then I am triggered and it falls apart. The walls come down. I build them up and then I break through, over and over again."

He scratched his jaw and tried to wrap his head around the whole thing. Even though he had learned a few things back on Ariel, about her 'amyg-something' being 'stripped' and her being unable to control her emotions, he still couldn't put himself in her place. He didn't know much about biology and psychology and the like. Up until that job they pulled in the hospital he had always figured the brain was just a big gooey mess in the head that wasn't good for much other than walking and talking and breathing. The idea that it was something intricate, with all kinds of inner workings and functions still seemed a little alien to him. And as for emotions, well . . . he had never really been overly concerned with them before. Took it for granted that control could be taken away with just a few pokes and prods to the head. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be this sad little girl before him, randomly babbling gibberish and seeing into people's heads.

"Dark," she answered his unspoken question, letting her gaze wander away from him. "Swirling, blurry, sometimes sharp and jagged. Confusing." Her brow furrowed and she blinked out a fresh batch of tears. "Lonely."

He swallowed down the lump threatening to rise in his throat. "Got family right here on this boat, don'tcha?"

"Simon cannot always follow. The shadows hide him from me, and the roots . . . the roots are too convoluted."

"Wasn't just talkin' about the doc," he muttered. "I mean, there's . . . Kaylee, and 'Nara, and . . . well, everyone."

She blinked up at him and tried to smile, but it didn't quite come across and she sniffed instead. "Family helps. And I am grateful." For a moment she seemed to be wrestling herself, debating whether or not she was going to continue. Then, slowly, hesitantly, "Boys . . . do not see me. They see the body, but not me. And when they do, they run and hide. Hide from the freak who sees every dirty thought in their head, even when she tries not to. They scream at her, without words."

Jayne blinked down at her and then glanced towards the door, wondering if he should go get Inara or Kaylee to have this talk with her. The topic was drifting down a path he wasn't so sure he could follow. But then River let out a little sob and brought his eye swiveling back to her. She closed her eyes, squeezing out a fresh wave of tears and hid her face in her arms again, but he could still hear the way her voice broke.

"Who's going to want me like this?"

Aww, hell. That did it for him.

He moved to crouch down in front of the chair and put his big hands on either side of her, lightly gripping the chair's arm rests. "Ain't no way a doll like yourself is gonna be alone for the rest o' yer life, _dong ma_? You look me in the eye and tell me you don't believe a man out there's gonna see you and fall madly in love with you," he ordered, refusing to let her turn away.

She hiccupped softly, but held his gaze all the same. "The universe is immeasurable, vast. Infinite. I may never find him."

"Yeah, maybe. But maybe you'll run into the lucky sonovabitch around the corner next week. And then he'll sweep you off yer feet and make a dozen babies with you."

River, intrigued by the idea, sniffed and then giggled a little. "Perhaps . . . perhaps fewer than twelve. The female reproductive system can only handle so much."

Jayne snorted, pleased with himself for getting her to smile again, and sat back on his heels. "You think twelve is bad? I knew a lady back home who had eighteen kids, all by the same daddy."

Her eyes, if it was possible, seemed to widen even more. "That's . . . remarkable. Eighteen? And she remembered all their names?"

"Well, most of the boys were named after their pa," he explained, rising to his feet again. "Frank the second, Frank the third, fourth . . . so on and so on. The girls all had flower names. Daisy, Rose, Lily, Petunia. Stuff like that."

River giggled. "Unfortunate children."

He smirked a little. "I'll say."

A comfortable silence fell between them – something that had never happened before. Jayne let his mind wander for a moment. He hadn't thought about home in a long while.

But then a small warm hand reached out and rested on his forearm. "Thank you, Jayne."

He came back to the present with a slight jerk. She was gazing at him like he was some kind of hero in shining armour, smiling in that soft, pretty way. His chest felt tight and warm all of a sudden, and he couldn't help but feel rather proud of himself. He'd managed to make her feel better, all by himself! It wasn't everyday that Jayne Cobb could make that kind of boast.

"I feel a little less lonely now. Not so unwanted," she told him, pulling her hand back to wipe away the last of her tears.

"You sure?" he asked with a slightly devious grin, wanting to lighten the mood again. "I could always go and kick that _hun dan_ around for a spell."

She managed a real laugh this time and shook her head. He feigned disappointment and held out a hand to pull her out of the chair. She accepted and gracefully unfolded her legs, and he couldn't help but notice that even at her tallest, she was still barely level with his shoulder. Her hand in his was so gorram small he could have crushed it with hardly any effort. He stared down at it in amazement, resting there so lightly in his wide palm. She looked up at him questioningly.

"How in the hell did you swing them blades around like they was nothing?" he asked suddenly, wondrously. "Back on Miranda. Yer so ruttin' small . . ."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly at the image of her he broadcasted through his mind, standing among the slain Reavers with axe and sword in hand, an archangel of blood and fire, ready and willing to spring again at the slightest provocation. She had wanted to stay out of his head, but he was concentrating on the memory so firmly that it slipped into hers as well. Kenny had thought she was pretty when he first saw her. Jayne had thought she was a gorram force of nature when those doors parted. She couldn't help but thrill at the stir she'd created in him

Something inside told her not to answer him. He wasn't really looking to hear her say anything, after all. Her words would break the spell and send his walls flying back up, hiding him from her. He was still gazing down at her slender fingers, seemingly unaware of how intimate the situation had become. She was so pale compared to him. A lily resting on a bear's paw. She could feel his blood networking just beneath the callused skin, and for the first time realized how gentle he could be. How could so much thought and feeling be contained in one infinitesimal moment?

"River?"

Simon's voice shocked them both into reality. Jayne dropped her hand and they both whirled around to face the doctor with matching guilty expressions, as though they had been caught doing something . . . _something_.

Her brother's gaze moved between the two of them slowly as he made his way up the stairs. "I just thought I'd come see how you were doing," he said slowly. "Is everything . . .?"

"Peachy," Jayne grunted, and the walls were back up. Not so solidly this time, but enough to keep him good and hidden. "I was just leavin'." On his way by, he made sure not to shoulder Simon aside like he used to.

River watched him go with a light heart. She was not disappointed. She had seen the unseen.

The doctor glanced curiously at his little sister. "You look a little wound up," he pointed out, reaching over to touch her arm. "Did Jayne . . . say anything, or –"

"His walls came down," she replied peacefully, still staring at the doorway. "Only for a moment. But I saw him, and he saw me."

Simon blinked at her and opened his mouth to ask something else, but she carried on as if he was not even there.

"I was wanted, once. Only for a moment, but it was wrong and he felt ashamed," she said quietly, now looking past the doorway and into something her brother could not see. "But I was wanted. I still can be. I will be again, one day."


End file.
